In the Mausoleum
by Flower of the Flame
Summary: Toshio Ozaki has chronic nightmares, the contents of which he cannot seem to remember. When a rare strain of anemia resurfaces, he connects the two, and begins to search for a possible answer. Sort-of-AU/Attempted BL/Noir-esque/Post Series
1. Dreams You Should Not Have

A\N: Happy Singles Awareness day. This is a multi-chaptered fic which is a sequel to _Years Spent Round the Foyer, _in some ways. Q AQ don't hurt me I'll update the other fic, I swear. (videogame bias is obvious) + I don't know if Yuki Shiomi is still alive at the end of Shiki? Can we just pretend she is? Plz? + more bonus points if you get the song lyric chapter titles.

He couldn't see the rest of the hallway, so he chose the first door. He vaguely recalled choosing the same door once before; but he couldn't quite remember when. Or where.

It seemed to fade into the desert beyond. A barren wasteland entangled with charred limbs and severed appendages. _Lovely. _

He walked, and walked, and walked, until the bottoms of his feet were entirely scorched, and the robe covering his body was torn at the hem.

It had been days. But he was back where he had started from.

Back to the tree made with bloodied hands.

The other man was grinning, lips around a drinking bowl filled with sake. He had no plans of going to the city beyond the desert. Did he not want to ride the railroads looped around the infinite towers?

Or perhaps, he had already been there. Did he not like what he saw?

The silver hair, the olive-green eyes. They belonged to someone he knew.

But who was that someone?

The sake-mouth was on his own lips. It wasn't entirely unwelcome; though he did not know why. Before he knew it, the other man was somewhere else. Somewhere he shouldn't have been.

But the doctor had indulged him.

He squeezed his eyes shut.

When he'd opened them again, the man was nowhere to be found. Just a skeleton, in temple robes. It was grinning, giddy with the sake it had imbibed. A hand was entangled in his own.

Ring.

It was trying to whisper something, though he didn't know what. It had no voice.

Ring.

_The emptiness will haunt you. _

Ring.

He awoke in cold sweat; though he didn't know why. He had had these nights before. He was on the verge of remembering something—though he didn't quite know what that something was. He knew that it probably stemmed from the dissatisfaction he felt.

Shiomi was trying to pressure him into something again. Something regarding rings and children. _Wasn't what they had enough? _

In the intervening years, he had found himself turning to stone. He never quite loved Kyouko, of that, he was sure. Yuki Shiomi had showed up in her absence. And, because of who he was, he would not deny her.

The two of them had a shared history. He was truly sorry for the distress he had caused her, when they were in Sotoba. But that was all he'd felt for her. Pity.

Perhaps he had taken her up on the chance, that maybe, someday, there could be something more. He was far enough into the relationship to know that he simply wasn't capable of feeling anything for her.

It was a fault of his own. Sotoba had made him cold.

Ring. "To-chan, are you gonna get that?"

"Hm? Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Just go back to bed, Shiomi."

She giggled. "We're living together, and you're still so formal, To-chan." She had moved closer to him, and given him a kiss on the cheek. "That's what I love about you, though."

He sighed. "Yeah…"

"Kyouko would have wanted you to be happy, you know."

He honestly didn't care.

Ring.

He slid the phone off the sleek receiver. She had wanted the house to match. To feel modern. To move forward. So his insurance settlement was eaten up buying trivial things, to embellish a hollow apartment that faced an equally destitute area.

"…Ozaki speaking."

"Heeey. Toshiooooo. Sorry to interrupt you…"

He sighed into the phone. "I was sleeping. Don't have the energy for that stuff anymore."

"Shiomi must be mad at you, huh?"

"I guess." He had come to the realization long ago that there was something entirely unsatisfactory about the women he was with.

The voice on the other end was probably expecting something more. "Anyways, we've got something. It's really weird. This guy… Mutou, looks like he committed suicide, there's a note and everything, but…"

Mutou. He hadn't thought about the manager in a while. Was it an uncommon surname? He didn't care enough to know. Hadn't taken him for someone with a weak constitution either. But, he had killed his son, after all. That couldn't have been entirely pleasant.

"Is it an overdose?"

"That's the strange part. His family claims that he hung himself… But… It looks like he died from anemia." The phone crashed against the floor.

"To-chan… is everything okay?"

Anemia.

"…Yeah. Just gotta go to the hospital for a bit. Verify some autopsy reports." He pulled on a pair of pants. Autopsy? Yeah. Right. He wasn't even sure if they'd done that yet.

"Oh… Is that it? I thought maybe… Something bad happened."

"No… Just… The manager. He's dead."

"… Oh… To-chan, that's terrible!" He yielded to the urge to grab the cigarette pack on his nightstand; Shiomi hated it when he smoked.

He hated when she gave him ridiculous nicknames.

But he hadn't verbalized the dissent.

"… Yeah. I'll just go and…"

"Are you sure you're okay? Do you want me to drive?"

"I'm fine." He scooped up the cigarettes and shoved them into his pants' pocket. "I'll call you if anything happens."

"I knew that Kurosaki-san was old, but…"

"Yeah… It happens." He didn't bother to correct her. He foresaw himself explaining much more than he intended to.

She sat up on the side of the bed and gave him a quick hug. "Be sure to call me, okay?"

He nodded, though he did not intend to.

Anemia. He was trembling.

Anemia inevitably meant that a Shiki was nearby. That Shiki had hypnotized Mutou and forced him to commit suicide.

_But what was a Shiki doing here? _

There was a small flutter in his heart; some hope that it was Seishin. What was the other man doing, now? He hadn't seen a book come out in a while; though he wouldn't have known where to look for his books anyways.

Perhaps it was safe to assume that the priest was done with that.

He mused with the possibilities. Seishin committed gristly murders now. Yeah. Mutou was just one in a long line of Sotoba-related deaths. Each one was carefully accounted for in a journal that he kept. (It was secured around his hip, for relatively easy access.) And when he'd finished everybody off, he planned to write a novel about it.

And nobody would suspect anything.

He slammed his forehead against the steering wheel. It accidentally hit the horn, causing him to jerk back into his seat. What was he doing here?

He was sure he did not love Yuki Shiomi.

She listened to him. But that was all.

She demanded too much.

And he wasn't willing to give in.

So why did he wrap his arms around her body night after night?

He didn't know.

He sighed. The hospital was still bustling. That was the difference between the city, and Sotoba. The city was eternal. Sotoba was impermanent.

The receptionist waved him over. "Oh, Doctor Ozaki! They're in morgue"

"Thanks, Kashiwagi."

She smiled. "Hey, how is Yuki doing?"

"Fine. She keeps hinting at certain things, though."

"You'd better not upset her, doctor."

"I know. I'm just not ready… It's too soon."

She offered him a smile; eerily reminiscent of one he had seen before. Though he could not remember where. It looked uncharacteristically sad.

"Seishin?"

"Hm?"

"No. It's nothing."

She frowned. Apparently that had upset her. "You'd better go. They've been waiting for a little while."

He had dreaded going into the morgue.

The rows of cadavers stared back at him with empty eyes.

Were they from the desert too? _What desert? _

The men in coats had waved him over to the corpse.

It was pale.

The note was placed in his hand.

It was far too late for him to claim to want to be with his son. He had killed him. And they had all moved on.

"Did you know him, doc?"

"… A little. I didn't think that he would…"

The labcoat shook his head. "Yeah. I know. It's rough."

"You said something about anemia, though."

"Oh yeah. There were insect bites in several places on the body. That probably accounts for some of it… But…"

He froze. Insect bites. "But what?"

The other man frowned. "Insect bites usually don't lead to kidney failure."


	2. El Caporal, Your Money's No Good

A\N: I'll cry if you don't get this one. The song title is in the lyrics. Yeah. All the points to those of you who figured out that Toshio was going to cheat on his girlfriend. And I had to edit the description. Because omfg I was sick when I wrote it. Also. On Tsubara. The manga said that he was a year above Seishin in university, so here, I assumed that Toshio would be acquainted with him. I'm honestly not "changing" Tsubara's sexual orientation "out of convenience." This is what I got out of the epilogue. And the (heart). Fanfiction won't let me stick an actual heart there. :'c since I'm making an obscenely long author's note, how about I just casually add that I now possess the tumblr urls ozakisdick and muroisdick.

He had spent a good portion of the night in the decomposing room. Long enough to know that Mutou's anemia had led to his kidney failure. And it was that anemia that led him to suspect foul play.

He had helped conduct an autopsy, which had only verified the earlier hypothesis. Before the man had a chance to hang himself, he had been taken by renal failure. His throat had shown no signs of asphyxiation; his trachea had not shown any signs of damage.

But this in itself was strange. Why would he hang himself, if he was going to die from anemia only moments after?

Was it to save his family from worry?

The suicide note seemed to be hastily scribbled out, showing no regard for proper penmanship. _Was it possible for Seishin to have scrawled it out before draining him?_ _And, after that… Seishin would have casually moved him to the living room, and hung him from his own fan. _

That seemed consistent enough with the evidence, though the death certificate read otherwise. He'd signed off on acute renal failure caused by a genetic abnormality.

But he knew otherwise.

The phone in his pocket buzzed. A text from Shiomi. _Hey, To-chan. You didn't call, so I was worried. Is everything alright? (: - love Yuki_

He took a cigarette from his pocket, and lit it. _I'm fine. I just… Sorry. I have some work to do, so I'll be back in a bit. - (heart) Toshio. _

He almost regretted tacking a heart onto the end of his message.

But that would have made her mad.

And a mad Shiomi inevitably meant that his planned "investigation" would be curtailed.

He snapped the phone shut, and slid it back in with the cigarettes.

It was going to be a long night.

Why had Seishin chosen to reappear now?

Was it because he felt just as empty? Was the corpse some sort of gristly signal? He sighed. There were six "insect bites" in total. Three different pairs of fangs. Even if Seishin had taken Kirishiki with him (which Toshio was sure he had,) that left one pair entirely unaccounted for.

So perhaps it wasn't Seishin after all.

He itched for a cigarette. His girlfriend wasn't around to tell him otherwise.

Where was he supposed to look for Seishin in the first place? He'd left his novel at home—perhaps there was information about the author.

He'd spotted a copy of the novel in the glass of a bookstore across the street. He'd felt strongly about it. So he'd been fine shelling out 500 yen for it. He'd begun to flip through it.

His breath hitched as he stumbled upon the author information. Though that was predictably scanty. Something about living with a daughter. Kirishiki. So perhaps it was him, after all. She could have bit him twice, and Seishin once.

Was that plausible?

He'd flipped back to the front cover. There was some publication information there. At least that was a start.

The publisher was thankfully close. He'd go there. After all, they were bound to have _some_ information about Seishin.

He sidled up to the building. It was rather non-descript. What was he expecting? Tokyo Tower? He'd recalled driving Seishin up to the front doors once. Seishin didn't have a car. And he was leery of making the journey by moped. So Toshio had volunteered to drive him.

But this had made the priest rather uncomfortable, for some reason.

He'd taken the bus after that time.

The doctor never been inside. What was he to expect?

The glass doors swung open, and he'd found a familiar man on top of an unfamiliar one.

"Tsubara." It wasn't really a question.

"To—Toshio? What are you doing here?" His cherry red face betrayed his surprise. He eased off the other man. "Uh… Yeah. So I'll see you later." He waved off the other man.

"…Uh… I… Who was that?"

"… We're dating." He didn't look at the doctor. Was he ashamed of it?

"You're…?"

"I wouldn't go so far as to label myself." He retrieved his glasses from his desk; though both of them knew that these were merely accessories. "… Anyways, why _are_ you here?"

The answer was relatively simple. "Seishin."

He shrugged. "Then you should probably leave. I don't know where he is. No one does." It wasn't the answer the doctor was hoping for.

The doctor tapped the end of his cigarette. "Oh, really?"

"Yes, really." He sat back in his chair and flipped opened his phone. "He disappeared after we finalized the novel."

"I don't believe you."

Tsubara sighed again. "You're just as obstinate as the first guy."

"…There was someone before me?"

"Newspaper reporter. Right after the fire." He continued composing a message on his phone. He wasn't even looking at Toshio.

"He sent me a copy of his book…"

"Did something happen between you guys?"

How was he supposed to explain that one? Sorry, the guy we know is now a vampire, and probably living with a smaller girl-child-demon vampire. But we don't call them vampires, we call them Shiki, because it seems to fit better. Oh. I tried to kill all the vampires, but it didn't work and the town burned down. I haven't seen him since. I suspect that he's behind a murder, and I'm trying to find him so that… Well, I don't know why I want to find him. I just do. Yeah. That's exactly how it is.

Instead, he opted for "… Yeah. We had a misunderstanding. I just wanted to say that I was sorry."

The editor nodded. "He forgives you. Now, go home."

"… Did he really disappear?"

Tsubara smiled. "Yeah. He's gone. Bank account annulled and everything."

"… You know something, don't you?" Why else would he be smiling? He was Seishin's friend, wasn't he? He was still staring at his cell phone. Cell phone. Seishin. Smile.

He had Seishin's number.

Tsubara's eyes widened. He'd caught on. "… I don't think that I'm allowed-."

Toshio had interrupted him. "Do you want money?" He hadn't meant to yell. "I can give you money. Here. Have my fucking credit card!" He reached into his wallet and drew out the pieces of plastic, flinging them at the other man with contempt. "Oh. That's right. I still have some yen in my wallet." He slammed the crumpled paper down onto the desk, and tossed the wallet on top of it.

"Toshio… I don't think…"

"Do you want my car too? Oh. How about my apartment. And my girlfriend." He began rummaging through his pockets for the keyes.

"Toshio! Stop." There was a firmness in his voice; one that he wouldn't have expected from Tsubara. Had Seishin changed as well? "… I don't want any of this."

"Then, what do you want? Sex? You love guys, don't you?" He began to unfasten his belt.

"Toshio. Stop." He set the phone down. "I don't want you. Or your money."

He pulled his belt back on. "…Sorry."

The editor sighed. "…No. It's fine. The two of you were close, right?"

"… I think so." He ran a hand through his hair. "Though I'm not sure if that's true anymore… I mean… He didn't even…"

He nodded. "It's alright."

"I just… Want to talk to him again. I don't know why…"

The phone buzzed, and the editor attended to it. "I don't want to lose this number."

"I… I know. It's just…"

Regardless of his stated intent, he began scribbling a number down on a pad of paper. "He doesn't ever pick up."

"What?"

"Don't call him. Text him. And don't text him with anything longer than three sentences. He won't respond if you do."

He was handed a piece of paper with nine digits on it. _He lives relatively nearby. _

"I… Thanks." He hastily added an apology. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Just don't tell him who you got it from, okay?"

"Will do."

He was about to get up to leave, when Tsubara signaled him back over. "… Are you going to leave your wallet here?"

"…Oh. Yeah." He hurriedly picked up his things and shoved them back into his pockets. "… Thanks."

"You already said that." He smiled and waved. "It was nice to see you again. It has been a while, Toshio."

"…Yeah. I think the last time was…"

"When you got married. I remember that. I sat next to Seishin." He gave the other man a nod. "How is the wife, by the way?"

"Dead."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."

He had ended up being drawn back to the chair, to chat about entirely inconsequential things. Jobs, cars, houses and children. Apparently the editor was looking to adopt. He'd already moved in with the other man (which was supposedly the equivalent of marriage,) and they had both become estranged from their families.

The doctor had forgotten how pleasant it was to chat with another person. One who was not Yuki Shiomi. He had ended up discussing the "disease" with Tsubara. And his own preoccupation with the perpetrators of the disease.

Tsubara hadn't judged him. Instead, he'd responded with "Maybe we should go on a double-date sometime."

"I think I'd like that."

He'd settled back into his car, Seishin's number in his pocket, Seishin's book in the backseat. The city lights seemed to be brimming with energy. He sped past the signs advertising new apartments, new lives.

There was something about the situation that brought a burst of adrenaline to his middle aged limbs.

Seishin. His phone lay on the dashboard. He'd texted Seishin with a simple message: _Hey. It's been a while. We need to talk. _He hadn't signed it. But he'd had a feeling that the other man would know.

He parked and checked his phone once again. Still no response. Perhaps Tsubara was right. Perhaps the priest was gone.

Had Tsubara given him a fake number?

Was it Tsubara's number?

He shook his head and stumbled through the front door. Shiomi was sitting on the couch, phone in her hand. She dropped it, and ran to him.

He felt a pair of lips on his. He felt himself sinking into her. _Stop. _The phone fell out of his hands. The screen cracked.

He pulled away. "Sorry. Not in the mood." But he'd offered himself to Tsubara. What was wrong with him?

"Oh. Sorry, To-chan. I was just thinking…"

"I know." He brushed his palm against her cheek, and pulled her close with his free hand. Fidelity meant something to her, didn't it? "I… just… let's just sleep on the couch tonight."

She giggled. "Okay. Let's do that." She planted a kiss on his cheek. "I love you, To-chan."

"Yeah. Love you too." He was lying.

She had nestled on top of him; circling her hands around him.

He wasn't quite sure when he'd fallen asleep.

He was outside the second door in the hallway. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that it was the only door. Had there been any other doors? Or had he dreamed them up as well? He'd slid it open.

The man with the white hair and olive eyes was behind the screen. A dark liquid was pooling underneath his wrist. He had grinned anyways. His hands were around the doctor's neck now, blood spilling down the medical coat.

_ I love you, you know? _

The voice was strangely hollow. Where had he heard it before? He felt himself plunge into icy waters, the sea around him turning red.

He felt naked. When had his clothes come off?

A second pair of hands was holding him down. They were small, childlike.

They held him as the man with the olive eyes pressed himself against the doctor, nuzzling his chest as he did so. He felt the lips on his once more, sucking the air out of his mouth. Was he dying?

_Believe in the things that I do. _


	3. After a Full and Happy Life

A\N: Hi LeeMae. I see you lurkin'. Hi. Chapter is dedicated to my biggest fan, Sandrine Georges. Sandrine, "u r world beater." Here's to our dream(?) of becoming an oyster farmer/mycologist duo.

The desire to expose bared flesh was one of the body. And he was not willing to subject himself to that suffering once again. If he had had a choice in the matter, he would not have chosen to lust after Toshio at all. Or any other man, for that matter.

So he wasn't quite sure why he had sent a reply. He had deliberated the decision long enough. It was nearly noon when he replied to the text message with a simple rejection. After all, it was polite, right?

_There is a reason for that, Toshio. And I do not wish to communicate any further. _He tucked his phone back into his pocket, and continued his faux slumber on the couch.

The message had arrived at the worst possible time; which was not so unlike the habit of the man who sent it. He was stalking prey in Shibuya's Daikanyama district. He had slipped the woman into a light trance, and was pretending to lead her home, when his cellphone had pinged rather loudly. This was apparently enough to draw her from the stupor he had put her in.

So he'd come home without a meal.

And his daughter had gone to bed starving.

But he'd sent a relatively cordial text anyways. What else was he supposed to do? Toshio had wanted something; otherwise he would not have bothered to seek Seishin out. That much, he'd worked out for himself. But what exactly did Toshio want?

His life seemed fine enough. It was remarkably close to what he'd had before, sans expensive apartment. He had recently taken a vacation. A vacation with his girlfriend.

He sighed. He'd realized long ago that Toshio had no romantic interest in him. And if he'd expressed any, it was only after three glasses of a particularly strong liquor.

At the time, he had thought nothing of it. Kyouko had left him, to work in her father's shop, presumably. And he'd taken Toshio out for drinks, because he'd seemed so dejected. It wasn't the loss of Kyouko that had saddened him. No, it was his own failure to retain his "possessions."

And he had no intention of becoming another one of Toshio's pawns. He had that nurse-woman. She'd quit her job for him; he had her wrapped around his finger. He'd seen enough of their nauseatingly relaxed life from his 11.6 inch monitor.

No, he hadn't felt any guilt for breaking into the doctor's computer. The other man had left it unguarded.

Much like his thoughts.

He checked his cellphone once again. _Seishin. Please, I just need your help. A guy from Sotoba is dead, and I think he may have been bitten by Shiki… It wasn't you, was it? _

_Yes, Toshio, I enjoy acts of wanton violence now that I am a Shiki. Before killing him, I raped him as my daughter watched. Afterwards, we stole all the valuables in his house, and sold them on the black market to make a neat profit. He's my fifth victim this week. _But then again, the doctor was dense. He'd probably take that seriously.

Instead he settled for: _Toshio, there are certain people I do not desire to cross. The perpetrator of the incident is one such person. I do believe that I asked you to curtail this correspondence. Good-Bye._

And he'd gotten an almost instantaneous reply. _Seishin! Please. This is serious! _

What was he supposed to say to that? _Yes, and I was serious about you leaving me alone. _He hadn't changed. He had taken Seishin's request to be left alone as an open invitation. The jinrou's own wants and needs were put after his own.

Some part of him knew that he would eventually have to give into Toshio. He'd typed: _The last time you asked me for information, you ended up disregarding it entirely. You yelled at me for distracting you. And you've tried to kill me twice before. What makes you want me now?_

_I know… but… you're… I can't ask anyone else. _He'd felt himself blush. The doctor had gotten one over him again. His earlier determination to fight him had worn off. He was the only one that Toshio could ask… Right? Which inevitably meant… He was getting ahead of himself again.

_Where, and when do you want to meet? _

_Does that center across from the train station… At noon sound good? You have the same area code, so I assumed…_

_ Yeah. Meet me inside the Go Parlor. The fee is 460 yen. _

_.. Go? _

_ Is there a problem?_

_ No. Just… Bad memories… _He slid his phone into his pants' pocket. He had the feeling that it was going to be a long day.


	4. To the Basement People

A\N: Seishin chapters aren't optional reading. That is all. Oh! This chapter is for my wonderful Nerdybooklover, who shares the same musical tastes I do. Thanks Azadari for your review~ This chapter goes a bit into go. I can't claim to have an in depth knowledge of go. . m.

The train was predictably packed. Though, it was still preferable to the alternative, the street parking available by the go center was scanty at best. Shiomi had called him a fool for purchasing a second car; it wasn't necessary in the city. In the end, they had settled on a medium-sized car. Nothing fancy. It was pristine, like the interior of their house.

_Their house. _He still hadn't gotten used to that. Yes, he had been living with her for quite a while. And, yes, he had mentally prepared himself for whatever that entailed. But thinking about his house as anything other than his own was strange.

He checked his cell once again. It was peculiar. He hadn't expected Seishin to acquiesce as quickly as he had. Seishin… Seishin was… a daytime vampire, apparently. _Was he part of a group of similar vampires?_ And his last published book was _Shiki. Had he written anything since then? _

He was living close enough to the Go Center to suggest it as a location to meet up. _Where exactly did he live, though? _And, he was probably living with the small Kirishiki girl. _Since he had a daughter, was it safe to assume that he had a wife? _ He couldn't discern anything beyond that. _And Seishin probably wasn't going to give out any information, judging from the tone of his texts. _

He had bought a charm from a nearby temple, just in case. If Seishin had tried anything…

He ran a hand through his hair. Should he have worn something more presentable? He shook his head. The doctor's coat seemed fine enough. Besides, he was wearing a clean shirt, and a nice pair of slacks underneath it. And Seishin probably wasn't going to wear anything fancy…

He was struck by just how wrong he had been. The jinrou had worn a rather stylish jacket, coupled with a nice scarf around his neck. His hair had reverted to a more youthful style, his glasses seemed long gone. The doctor himself could not quite tell the difference between fall and winter fashions in Tokyo.

But the jinrou was different… He realized that he was staring. An older man had patted his shoulder, and assured him that yes, Seishin was handsome, but he'd probably have a better view if he sat down. He apologized profusely and pulled up a chair (he had seen another man do it, so…)

Seishin was hunched over the table, carefully examining the stones. Another man was discussing them with him, apparently. "You see. If you had played one point higher here…" He pointed to an intersection in the upper right hand corner of the board. "… you would have probably won." He quickly amended himself. "But… Don't beat yourself up over it. The shape is rather difficult. A pro might not have seen this one right away."

"Ah… But if you say that, _sensei…" _He offered the older man a laugh.

_"Sensei" _joined in. He felt out of place. He was being largely ignored in a meeting that he himself had called. He shifted his chair slightly. "Sorry. I'm keeping you, aren't I?"

He looked expectantly at Seishin. "Ah… That is…"

"No, it's fine. I was going to go pick my son up anyways." He swept the black stones back into the pot. He grinned "You should take the test this year. You're fairly qualified. Not many people I know can play a game like that."

Seishin did the same with his stones. "… I don't know if I can… My daughter is still young, and…"

He was given an affectionate ruffle of the hair, and Toshio couldn't help but feel jealous. "Don't worry about it. Whenever you think you're ready." He collected his jacket, and emptied the seat, presumably for Toshio to occupy afterwards. "Anyways, I've got to be going…"

The doctor slid into the seat across from the jinrou, and began idly toying with one of the stones. "Long time no see."

"You should put two stones down… Though… You haven't played in a while, so four might be more accurate."

"God. Seishin. I haven't seen you in forever, and you give me this bullshit about stones." He sighed, complying with the earlier instructions. "By the way… Are we not choosing for color?"

"No." He shrugged. "You asked me for help. Not companionship."

He shook his head. "Doesn't mean you have to be so cold about it."

"Fine. How was your day? What are you doing now? How is your sex life?" There was a sarcastic tone to it. "Was there something I missed?"

Seishin was markedly different. "I'm fine. My day was alright. I suppose I'm still unnerved about the patient. Uh… You can see that I'm still a doctor. And the last question is kinda personal." He slid a stone next to one of Seishin's. He chuckled, hoping that it would lighten Seishin's mood. "When'd you get so damn fashionable anyways?"

He blushed "I… It's convenient to dress this way." He plucked one of Toshio's stones off the board, and threw it with his prisoners. "And wearing a kimono is rather conspicuous."

The doctor laughed at the thought of the priest wearing a kimono on the streets. But then again, he had half-expected him to have it on. "I get it. You don't your face floating around."

He nodded.

"It looks nice, though."

Another blush.

"Anyways. I wanted you to check this out." He passed his phone to the other man. "It seems similar to… You know."

The jinrou regarded the picture with flat eyes. It had taken him but a moment to make his diagnosis. "No."

"No what?"

"No, I don't have any information." He handed the phone back to the other man. "As I said before, there are certain Shiki I would rather not cross."

"Seishin… There are guys dying out there." He plopped another stone down, with relative disinterest. Some part of him knew that he was going to lose anyways.

"One, so far as you know." He took another one of Toshio's stones. "And anemia is a relatively common symptom."

"But Mutou. Come on! It's just too much to be a coincidence!" He took the charm out of his pocket, letting it dangle from his left index finger; perhaps this would do the trick. He almost expected Seishin to keel over.

Instead, he got: "Is that… A bribe?" He reached over and took it. "It's tasteless though." He handed it back to Toshio. "… You know… I was a priest."

"…Yeah. I mean… No. It's not a bribe. I thought that maybe…" He shook his head and slid it back into his pocket. "I know. And I thought it was a waste. That you were a priest, I mean. Seemed so much more talented than that."

"Toshio… You can't just…" He was furiously blushing. It was working to his advantage, then. "I…"

"Seishin. Please?"

He hesitated a moment, but the doctor had known that he would agree. "If you do something for me in return."

"And, what would that be?"

"A death certificate. I want one."

He sighed. "Seishin. Nobody _asks _for a death certificate."

The other man retorted with "And nobody _loses _a go game that he's seen before."

"I haven't seen this before!"

He shrugged. "_Sensei _and I were playing a similar game. Had you chosen to focus on the area he suggested, you would have won."

"Fine. I'll write your death certificate. But you've gotta get me some results first."


	5. Please Come Out With Us Tonight

A\N: This pairing is now and forever known as Toshin, because tumblr. 8| Again. I implore you to go out and find some of these songs, because there is a little bit of foreshadowing/symbolism wrapped up with the titles/lyrics of them. Oh. And they're generally fantastic songs. That is all.

He was back in the darkened hallway, hands against the second door. _Why hadn't he gone any further? _He turned his full weight on it, pushing back on the silk. It was dyed with a faint purple. The other door hadn't been quite as difficult to open.

But, was there another door? Or, had he just imagined it? He had been here before, hadn't he?

It refused to budge, frame still in place. He couldn't help but shake the feeling of urgency. There was something he needed to see. It was important. He had thrown his coat over his boxers and rushed out of… Where had he come from, again?

He shook his head. He just needed to get into the room.

He heard the faint chiming of metal scraping against itself. The sense of urgency increased. But the door would not budge.

He pounded against it, until his hands were just as purple as the silk itself. The screen did not rip. He sighed, and slunk against it, falling back into the wine colored door. He was sinking, too deep in the delirium to notice that the other man was dying.

By the time he had found the doorframe again, the priest had taken his dying breath. He slid it back to find a pallid corpse. The blood had dyed his robes. It seemed more fitting this way, though.

He knelt by the priest's body, hoisting it on one of his knees. He brushed the platinum hair back tucking it behind his ears. He leaned in for a kiss; the corpse was beautiful. But it was dead. It was impossible to force air into his lungs. _But why was he trying in the first place? _

Sleeping with his cellphone was not the best idea he'd had. But he had been tired when he came back to his apartment. Tired enough to cast off his pants and lie down on the couch. Shiomi hadn't objected. She had tucked him in and told him to rest.

And he had intended on it. But a series of high-pitched rings had brought him out of his slumber. It was becoming a routine, wasn't it? He sighed, and answered nevertheless. "Ozaki speaking."

"Ah… Toshio. I think I have something." Well, yes. It was Seishin. Obviously it was Seishin. It was Seishin. He had half a mind to hang up.

"Goddamnit. Do you know what time it is?" He had whispered harshly into the phone. Shiomi was presumably sleeping.

"It's two-thirty-two am." He was so calm.

The doctor groaned. "Seishin. I'm almost forty. You've gotta let me get some sleep."

"Ah. Sorry for bothering you then…"

"No." He sighed. "It's fine. What's up?"

He heard a conversation in the background. "I ran a broad search, and found eighteen relevant cases. It's not safe to electronically send, though."

"So you're asking me to get them from you in person."

There was a bit of hesitation on the other end. "I … didn't say that…"

"…Seishin… You want me to run around Tokyo… At two thirty…! Really!" He rubbed his forehead, vaguely aware of the noise he was making. "Can we just… tomorrow?" He hissed into the phone.

"No." There was a firmness in the man's voice; one he had not quite remembered. Seishin was not willing to compromise. He tacked a hasty explanation on anyways. "It needs to be gone by tomorrow."

"Seishin…" He rolled out of the couch, and pulled his pants off the floor. "…What exactly do you have…?"

"I'm in the fast food place across the street. Meet me there." He hung up.

"Seishin? …Seishin?" _How the hell do you know where I live? _There was no answer. He snapped the phone shut. Yes, he was… angry? No… anger was too strong. Irritated sounded closer to the mark. Seishin had somehow discovered his address. And he had come across something pertinent in the space of fourteen hours.

It had taken him nearly six years to find the former priest. And perhaps it would take him longer to mend their friendship. If the jinrou allowed that. The chances seemed slim. Seishin was probably going to leave once he'd gotten his death certificate. And judging from his current demeanor… Well, he wasn't exactly contemplating withholding the document.

But… Then again… Seishin had called him. That had to count for something, no matter how trivial that something was. And he could have just as easily mailed the documents to the doctor…

He sighed. Seishin was difficult to comprehend. He was firmly convinced that it hadn't always been that way; yes, in his mind, there had been a time when he could read the jinrou like a book. He pulled on the pants and threw on a coat. He was not going to repeat the same mistake he had before. Though, whatever the other man wore was likely to outdo the coat that Shiomi had picked for him.

His assessment had been correct. He was wearing a nice sweater with a prominently displayed belt. Glasses had returned to his face, though they were not quite the same style as before. These were rounder and fuller than the pair he had in Sotoba. He was sipping a presumably watery drink out of a styrofoam cup.

He slid into the booth, a tray of burgers and fries in hand. "Want some?"

"No, thank you." He took another sip.

"They're honestly not that bad." He moved the tray closer to the jinrou.

"I already ate."

He nodded. "So… What was that call all about?"

Seishin placed a folder on the table. "Medical reports. There are eighteen of them in here, with descriptions similar to that photograph you showed me." He passed it to Toshio. "I'd like you to take a look at one of them in particular."

"Seishin… Any physician can get a copy of these." He flipped through it regardless, scanning for similarities between the patients. The first report was too lengthy to go through, so he'd stopped half-way. "What's so dangerous about this?"

He shook his head, and flipped to a seemingly random packet of information. He withdrew a stack of paper, and arranged it neatly on the table. "This report in particular seems a little strange…"

The doctor skimmed it. "What's so strange about a guy dying during surgery?"

He took a second report. This one seemed familiar. "You stated that the cause of death was renal failure, did you not?"

His breath caught in his throat. A copy of his signature was staring at him. "How did you get this?"

"I found it."

"Seishin. This stuff is confidential! You can't just look through it!" He had half a mind to dump his drink on the pages, rendering them unreadable.

He shrugged. "I understand. You don't want it." He began piling the paper back into the folder.

It was unethical. And yet… He'd already crossed the line once… Was there really any harm in looking at medical reports? He was a physician, after all. "Wait… No. I'll take a look."

The jinrou continued. "This death certificate" he tapped the paper in front of the doctor "… It is false. The original report states that the patient underwent a seemingly miraculous recovery."

"Oh." He was trembling with excitement. So, there were some left-overs after all. "And when was he brought in?"

"Post-mortem."

"So… You're saying that… He came back to life." The food was long forgotten.

"And displayed signs of hyper photo-sensitivity." The assessment was just as cold as his first. Seishin seemingly _knew _what exactly it was that they were dealing with.

"…And I'm supposed to…?"

"Look through the reports. Change Mutou's symptoms to fit these. Delete the death certificate from the database, and write a 'miraculous recovery' for him, no matter how far from the truth it is."

He took a while to respond, looking at the reports in great detail before he did so. The patients were quite varied. There was no clear pattern. The youngest victim had been nineteen, and the oldest, seventy-two. The eighteen cases had all taken place within the last one-hundred and twenty days. _The average lifespan of a red blood cell. _So, he had done some prior research.

"Seishin… This is all so strange…"

But the other man had already left.


	6. Sure of Myself, Sure of it Now

A\N: Thanks to METRO SKiiES for helping me with the Japanese family crest business. . m. that being said, I just assumed that the yazuka would use the head's crest. Forgive me if I'm wrong. + this chapter happens before the last.

Seishin had grown relatively accustomed to the isoteric ways of the underworld. When he completed what was asked of him, he received money. It was never the same amount. The last job had given him a paltry sum.

The job before that had paid handsomely.

The money always came in two days after the completion of his job. The same woman would hand him a blank envelope.

He worked for her because he had little choice in the matter. She had found him fairly quickly, just as Sunako had predicted. Jinrou were a valuable commodity, and she was not going to lose the opportunity to ally herself with one.

She had given him his tattoo. It was on his abdomen, as he had specified. His daughter had been spared, because she was too young. When she came of age. He snorted. That would never happen.

Sunako had chosen their home. He was not entirely unsatisfied. The hotel had a plethora of guests. And the room was large enough. He was listed simply as "Kirishiki." When he had picked the name, some part of him had hoped that someone would find him.

After three months, it had become apparent that such a thing was not going to happen.

The go center had been inside their territory. So, he'd gone. At first, it was because he had little else to do. As a consultant, he was expected to work with certain clients. He was rather adept at that, so it consumed little time. Extracting information wasn't too terribly difficult either—so he'd found himself idle for a few hours each day.

At first, he'd gone to the Go Center to introduce a routine to his life. He'd joined the Go Club in the second year of high school, because Toshio had asked him to. Toshio's girlfriend was the president… And the club was filled with women (which was rather uncharacteristic of the sport, Toshio said,) so Seishin was to keep him company.

And he'd hinted at a possibility of a romantic interest. _You know, there are a lot of pretty girls, and… _He'd thought he'd get to spend more time with Toshio. Discuss strategy. Share a hobby.

He hadn't forseen the romance. Perhaps he should have. Toshio was slammed against the board on a regular basis. He had walked in on them once. They were doing things that high-schoolers should not have been doing. He hadn't meant to see it. He had come back to the room to return the folding board and stones he'd borrowed over the weekend. He had entered in a tournament, so it was important to practice, wasn't it? He didn't know that they were using the room. He just wanted to put the board back. And possibly ask the teacher if he could see the scorecards from the last tournament.

He had found them there, tangled in each other. He squeezed his eyes shut. It was nauseating. The person he liked was… The boy had set the items down on the board gingerly, wanting to leave immediately. And then she had yelled at him. Toshio hadn't bothered defending him. Yes. It made so much sense. He was a pervert, because he did not have a girlfriend. No, he was too busy taking compromising photographs of females.

He hadn't defended himself then. He had just let her yell at him. Yell, yell, yell. Toshio's silence had done it. He walked out of the room with his bag tightly clutched to his chest. He had gone directly to the church, and lay on a pew. The book he had purchased a few months ago lay at his side. Would reading it put him on the same level as Toshio?

But wasn't desire a human emotion? Was it wrong to want Toshio? He didn't know. He curled up tightly, unwilling to let anyone in. He pulled the book to his chest, crying into it.

He was told that Toshio had come to see him. Presumably to apologize for what he'd done. He messily broke it off with the girl a few weeks later. He switched clubs, though Seishin did not.

His adverse reaction to the Go Parlour had probably been driven from that club, from a long history of being slammed against cheap folding boards. But he wasn't nearly as tasteless.

He laughed bitterly. And where had that gotten him? He was on the couch of a cheap hotel room, searching for possible clues about a seemingly made-up case.

When he was younger, he had slid the razor so neatly against his wrist. He was drunk. Utterly and thoroughly drunk. There was some half-formed idea in his brain, that maybe in death, there was some release. But he knew better now.

He came to, strapped to a hospital bed, forks and knives in his wrist. His mother was crying over him, his father consoling her. The doctor had told him that he would be fine.

Fine. Fine. It was a dull sound. How was he supposed to be fine, when Toshio hadn't even come to see him? He was too busy studying. _It was probably nothing anyways. _

The words swam around in his head. Until they had no meaning anymore. It had become relatively easy to tell people that it was going to be okay. He was fine.

Tsubara had been there though, had held his hand while he lay on that cold, cold bed. He had visited every day, and stayed until Seishin had fallen asleep. He had helped the priest and his wife with their grief.

They had moved in together after that. Or maybe it was before. Because Seishin couldn't be trusted alone. And Toshio had not cared enough then, either. And yet, he still loved the man. Loved him so much that it hurt.

It had taken him but a moment to snap back into the familiar routine. Watching Toshio's slender fingers pick up stones from the pot, lay them on the goban one by one. His mouth twisted into a characteristic frown, his eyes darting from Seishin to the board. He wanted Toshio. And that scared him.

He sighed, fingers to keys. One hundred and twenty days seemed like a broad enough time period. He had restricted the query to anemia, with insect bites on the epidermis. There were four hospitals in the vicinity. Toshio's was relatively easy to locate. And the files were unprotected. So he found the doctor's personal information with relative ease.

He saved a copy of it to his computer, though he did not know why.

He created a second folder for the results of the search, knowing that he would have to quickly delete it, when his presence in the mainframe of the hospital was compromised. The cases started filing in one by one.

The first report belonged to a young man, who'd died of anemia approximately ninety-three days prior to the search. He had no prior health conditions. Insect bites were found on the upper arm.

The second report seemed to be the same as the first. He skimmed through five more, briefly pausing when he reached the report for Mutou. Toshio had signed off on the death certificate. If he saw it, he would, predictably get mad. And Seishin did not fancy being yelled at.

Which meant that he would be less attracted to Toshio? It was worth a try, he supposed. Mutou's report was included. As were the next five.

Then, he had stumbled on something strange. There were two copies of the report, one found in the recycle bin, and the other marked as the official report. They were markedly different. The scrapped report had verified Toshio's hypothesis. The patient was described as having come in with no heartbeat. After a few rounds on the defibrillator, the doctors determined that there was nothing to be done. The eyes were faintly cloudy, and there were signs of rigor mortis setting in. (Though Seishin postulated that the corpse had been lying around for a while, before it was sent into the hospital.)

Complying with the wishes of the family, the body was not scheduled for autopsy. It was sent straight to the morgue. Later that evening, it had gone missing (according to the mortician.) It turned up in the lobby, from where it was escorted to a room.

The body seemed to reject solid food, and need a constant supply of transfusion packs. It was hooked up to an IV drip for good measure.

The report described the next morning as unusual. When a nurse was sent in to take the patient's blood pressure, she found her underneath the bed, seemingly afraid of the light. Her fingertips were burnt. There was no further documentation on the occurrence.

The official report had issued her a death certificate as soon as the rounds of defibrillation ended.

So, perhaps foul play was suspect after all.


	7. And the Clock's Still Turning

A\N: Um. Yeah. This one's for Azadari. Who reviewed just about every chapter. . uuuuuuuu. Oh! If anyone cares, I got accepted to my second choice college. I've just gotta wait to see if I get in my first choice one. – But… chances are I'll probably be reject. /CRIES

The doctor had opted to eat alone, in his office. The doors were closed and the blinds were drawn shut. He preferred it that way.

There was no need to converse with any of the other doctors; he had already done that during his earlier break. He did not find any of them particularly interesting—they were all alike in their indifference. All too ignorant too see that some greater malice was at bay.

So he ate alone.

Well… He was not truly alone. Seishin was probing around in his computer, attempting to trace a change made in Mutou's report. It had been three days since he'd last seen the other man. Two days since the report had been forged. A day since it had been tampered with, as the jinrou had accurately predicted that it would be.

The intruder had apparently been captured on the doctor's low-resolution webcam, which he'd unintentionally left running. Which meant that the intruder had broken into Toshio's office at some point in time. It made sense, didn't it? He hadn't published the report after he had changed it. He'd left it on his computer, and then gone home for the night.

It followed suit that the person who had changed it was someone working at the hospital. It had to be someone who was familiar enough with medicine to write a highly technical report.

He opened up the document that he and Seishin had used in lieu of conversation. He typed: think i've got it. its someone at the hospital.

He'd gotten a reply almost immediately. "I suspected as much. The first five to look at the file were Aoyagi, Hasegawa, Sakazaki, Unlisted, and yourself."

seishin nobody here's named unlisted. He chuckled to himself. It was a lame joke, wasn't it?

The red text resumed its slow and steady march once again. "I know, Toshio. Unlisted means—"

Toshio had promptly hit the enter key, to begin typing a reply. It didn't work as he'd hoped. The jinrou continued typing regardless. "That the person who was"

Enter. "Looking at the file was"

Enter. "Masking their"

Enter. He began typing: "i know. it was a"

Seishin had decided to finish his thought, despite the fact that Toshio had begun a new one. "IP address."

"joke. it's a joke, seishin." He sighed. What was he expecting? A laugh? Seishin hadn't ever done so readily.

He stared at the screen, taking the lack of response as a break in the conversation. His sandwich lay on his desk, barely touched. He picked at the lettuce, ignoring the text from Shiomi. She had apparently met with a few of her friends, and was going to spend the night at some spa resort with them. There was a couple with child amongst them—the cause for her consternation; she wanted a child of her own. And the two of them were getting old, so…

He didn't know how exactly to answer her. He was no longer interested in children. Or maybe he'd never been interested in having children in the first place.

He hadn't found anything strikingly attractive about her, either. She was like Kyouko; convenient.

Seishin seemed so pure in that regard.

He imagined the other man sitting at his computer, a woman's arms around his neck. She was frail and bird-like. Found something interesting about living with a jinrou, and a shiki. He'd embrace her, and tell her that he was working on a pet project. And she'd tell him not to work too hard.

He dressed to please her. But he'd looked so mundane, while wearing them. Imaginary-Seishin was wearing the same clothes as he had worn three days ago. He lacked the repertoire that he'd exhibited during their brief encounter in the Go Parlor.

The clothes were good looking. And he was good looking. And yet… There was something wrong with the picture. The belt buckle was too flashy for his taste. So it had to go. Regardless of what Imaginary-Seishin's imaginary-girlfriend had to say about the altered outfit.

He looked at Seishin again, thick sweater and tight pants. They lacked the unity that the belt gave them. So, perhaps she was right. The sweater had to go. Seishin probably wasn't wearing anything underneath.

And the pants looked awkward on a shirtless man. They were meant to be worn with something on top. (Imaginary-girlfriend preferred something draped lightly over the thighs.) So the pants needed to go too.

He found himself imagining an almost nude Seishin. He flushed. He hadn't meant to undress him. He just wanted… He wanted… He didn't know.

He imagined Seishin with a straining…

Toshio turned a brighter shade of red. What was he thinking about? He was in a somewhat committed relationship. And Seishin was a man… Who was probably in a committed relationship as well…

But his mind kept drifting back to the image of the almost-nude Seishin, in a relatively compromising position. It had just somehow… happened. He looked back at the screen in an attempt to avoid further thoughts.

A new line of red text had cropped up. "You don't have to get so aroused."

"how'd you?"

"Webcam. It is still connected to your computer." He could almost visualize the smug smile.

"so you've been watching me this entire time?"

"…No."

"that's kinda creepy."

There was another pause. This time, Seishin had initiated the conversation without any prompting. "You seem to have plans for the evening, I take it."

"not really." He'd begun to type "she's gone," but swiftly hit the backspace key. "any progress?"

"Actually, yes. 'Unlisted' seems to have accessed the file from an internet café. The café is fairly close-by. Furthermore three workers in the hospital seem to have overlooked the file in its entirety." The text stopped.

"why the first five, specifically?"

"The first five people accessed the file on the date it was published. I assume that this person wanted to check up on his/her work, to make sure that you hadn't altered it in any way. This must have occurred only shortly after it was uploaded. I hypothesized that this person would have checked it on the day it was uploaded. The five of you were the only users I could find on record as having checked it that day."

He hadn't bothered to read through the small paragraph. He understood what he thought it was that Seishin was trying to communicate. But he lacked the attention span, at the present moment. Instead, he opted for a less dry topic. "you used to hate computers before."

"They are…" There was a small pause there. Toshio had taken a bite of his sandwich, and the previous red text had faded away. "It's my job."

He had wanted to ask what exactly it was that Seishin did. But he didn't. He knew that he wasn't going to get an answer. "oh." He'd quickly added onto it. "you're pretty good at it."

"Thank You." With that, an email notification had popped up in the bottom right hand corner of the screen. It was from Seishin. He was vaguely aware of its contents. It was the information that Seishin had discussed, albeit in greater detail.

He opened it up, regardless, looking over the message, in an attempt to please Seishin. Though he wasn't quite sure why. He quickly reopened the document. "looks good."

"Thank You. As I stated before, the internet café is not too far away from your residence. And I do expect you to purchase time at a computer there. Notify me when you do, via text message, and I should be able to obtain the information that I require."

He wasn't quite sure how to respond. There was some finality in Seishin's statement. He had typed in a "sounds good," with the intention of following it up with a question. The only one that came to mind, however was "are you free later tonight?"

He had stared at the screen in disbelief. There hadn't been a conscious decision to ask, on his part.

"May I ask why?"

"drinks. i got some champagne as a present a while back. and we have cause for celebration, now that you've found the guy."

"Toshio, I'm hardly close to 'f[inding] the guy,' as you put it. It's a premature celebration."

"c'mon. it'll be fun. you'll be off daddy duty for a while."

"I rarely ever take care of her."

"better than being alone in your apartment."

"I don't live in an apartment."

He sighed. "seishin. just come over. it'll be fun."

He was only mildly surprised when Seishin complied. "Alright. However, I have work in the morning, so I will be leaving early."


	8. We Drink Tonight

A\N: Deer LeeMae this is for you. You're really kawaii and sugoi. If I ever write a reel book this will be my dedication. But I'll probably make it sound more legitimate. OH! Yes. This chapter's song. I might as well reveal the title, because there is a bit of foreshadowing wrapped up in it. In addition to being one of my favorite songs, Elephant Gun has fantastic lyrics, and an interesting music video. The title "Elephant Gun" is meant to suggest a gun of high caliber, used in the hunting of elephants. I imagine that a gun like that would have a monumental kick. ANYWAYS.

Seishin stood in the doorway, bag in hand. It was an intended gift for the host. A bottle of wine, probably bought from a convenience store. He wasn't sure if it was an apology for arriving later than expected, or a formality derived from custom.

He let the jinrou in anyways, extending an invitation to his companion as well. Predictably, it was politely declined.

"You don't have to be so cold, you know." He offered to take Seishin's coat. There were two of them, a dusty gray-black thing (possibly leather, or some like material,) and a zip-up beige one underneath.

He shook his head. Apparently he was not going to stay for as long as Toshio expected. "You asked me to finish a job. Not keep you company."

The doctor opened his mouth to say something. He couldn't think of anything that sounded remotely pleasant. _You don't have to be a dick about it? _No. That would jeopardize the already-precarious position he was in. "… Ah… Right. This is your first time here, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Want me to show you around?"

Seishin said nothing. He allowed himself to be led around by Toshio, perhaps in an attempt to avoid the drinks.

"This is the living room." He refrained from saying anything else. He let Seishin inspect the sterility that the white posed. The square couches with contrasting pillows thrown upon them, the specially-fitted curtains for the floor-to-ceiling windows that had cost a small fortune. He watched the other man's unassuming gaze, wondering whether or not the former priest was putting up a small façade. The scrutiny made him apprehensive, more than the implications that inviting a vampire into his home had.

At long last, he was answered with an "It looks nice." He had to doubt the statement. When he looked back over at his living room, he couldn't quite see what about it was _nice _in the least. It wasn't personal. And it wasn't beautiful. It had ever so slightly missed that mark. He shook his head, instantly regretting his decision to show the other man around.

He quickly revised his impromptu tour. He would skip the undecorated guest rooms, and the bathroom. The storage closet (used mainly as an alcohol cabinet) wasn't quite worth displaying either. Which meant that the only thing left to show Seishin was the alcove above the living room.

In his haste, he grabbed a bottle of liquor, hoping that there would be a chance for them to drink it on the bed. Despite his prepping for it, he hadn't actually thought the entire thing through. He invited Seishin over for drinks, yes.

And then what…? Seishin was going to leave early. And even if there was a slight chance that he did not… He had already said that much himself. He wasn't going to keep Toshio company, despite the doctor's own hopes.

He watched as Seishin approached the bed timidly. Toshio hadn't said anything yet.

"It's rather open, isn't it?"

He snorted. "Too old." He took a seat next to Seishin, throwing an arm around him. "What about you?"

"Not interested."

The doctor laughed. "Good." He quickly added "We don't need any more distractions do we?"

"You invited me over for alcohol," the jinrou retorted. "Speaking of which…"

Toshio produced a bottle. He made a quick glance at the bedside table. It was going better than he thought. Perhaps if things kept up… He tried to clear the thought. He was in a committed relationship, and Seishin was a man. Whom he did not love. And he hadn't even bought lubricant… "Shit."

"Is something wrong?" He looked at Toshio with mild concern.

"Cups. Forgot the cups." It was a poor excuse.

"It's fine." He looked at the bottle expectantly. It made sense. The sooner he drank out of it, the sooner he was allowed to leave.

He took a sip out of it, and then passed it to Seishin. "I'm not the biggest fan of this house."

The jinrou passed the bottle back. "Doesn't seem like you. Too clean." He chuckled at that one. It was entirely true.

"We hire housekeepers. But no, that's not it. It's the city."

Seishin narrowed his eyes. "Don't tell me. You actually prefer living with your mother?"

Another laugh. The alcohol was working its way to his head. "No. Not like that. I mean… It's impersonal. I'm just fed up with it all. Girlfriend 'cause she's convenient, job, because I can't do anything else." He sighed, and fell backwards onto the mattress. "Maybe if I'd just fixed things with Kyouko… And tried to make peace with the damn vampires…"

Seishin shook his head. "I don't think it would have worked like that. I think Kyouko was the same, if I am allowed to pass a judgment." He set the bottle back on the night stand, and lay on his side. He was flushed. "And the village was always doomed."

He took a lock of Seishin's hair between his thumb and forefinger. "So, what about you?"

The jinrou grew redder. "Toshio… I'm not… I'm definitely not…"

"Is that a yes?" He pulled his friend closer. "Because…" He pressed a hand to Seishin's groin.

"You're dating."

He laughed. "Really? I just told you I didn't like her."

"Doesn't mean you love me."

"Honestly? Shouldn't you wait until I'm done talking?" He sighed, sitting back up. "Open that drawer up for me."

"It's been a while." He complied, squeezing his eyes shut, when he saw the contents.

"You'll be fine."

"You don't have any…"

"I can make a trip to the convenience store." He grabbed a neatly wrapped package, and handed it to Seishin. "I'd prefer you use your mouth…" He winked.

Seishin grew even more red. "I have work tomorrow."

"I can drop you off." He shook his head. "Yes, or no? Because I can't imagine…" He jerked a thumb in Seishin's direction "That is very comfortable."

There was a little nod. "But… I'm not…"

He drew Seishin closer and gave him a kiss as a response. "It's fine." He ran a hand through the other man's hair.

It was going to be a long night.


End file.
